A Pirate's Treasure
by Apollaskywalker
Summary: After the events of 2x11, Hook is taken to the Storybrooke Hospital
1. Penny

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm not making money off of this, it's just for fun.

A Pirate's Treasure

There's a bag for all his belongings, all the leather and jewelry. Pirate, they said, but I didn't realize pirates really wore all this leather. You would think a flashy coat and the jewelry would be a deterrent in combat, but then…do pirates actually fight hand-to-hand or is that just a movie thing? I don't know, before I never encountered pirates as I lived on the land. Here, I've kept my studies to nursing. I gently fold the pants and place them inside the bag before I mark them down on the list. So far I've tallied shirts, shoes, belts, undergarments, an earring, the jacket, now the pants. I move on to the jewelry and add them to a smaller, easily sealed bag, a non-label Ziploc bag. The kind you buy at large grocery stores or dollar stores because they're cheaper than the name brand. I put in one earing, a few rings, and a necklace. I label that and write the patient number on the imitation Ziploc. I put that inside the other bag.

There's just one thing left: this silver hook. Or maybe it's only silver colored and is actually steel or some other metal. I'm only a nurse.

I won't have anything to do with this hook; I have to turn it in like all other weapons. My supervisors will handle it. Maybe Sherriff Swan will take it down to the station. I take the bag and the hook and leave to turn them in to the safe deposit, where they'll be looked after.

They accept it and that's the last I see of the hook. I head up to his room.

He has a name, Sherriff Swan mentioned it: Captain Hook or Killian Jones. He's obviously got a sense of humor, or else he wouldn't have gone by "Hook".

I walked up to his room to check on him. He was assigned to my rounds, which were rather small. Since the end of our curse, most people are outside the hospital. Very few patients are sick now. Most come in from accidents – such as a dwarf needing attention for what happened in the mines or the like. This man is also from an accident, hit by a car.

And from what I can tell (and what I heard) some other object.

When I entered, he's still out cold. It hasn't been very long and we gave him some pain medication which can induce sleepiness in some patients. I wouldn't be surprised to learn that he copes through pain by sleeping – or by drinking.

I took his vitals and checked to make sure the blood had been drawn. His head was bandaged, lightly, just enough to close the gash near his hairline. The rest of his wounds were easily hidden by the standard hospital gown, a pale blue which stood at great odds against the stark contrast of the black leather he'd encased himself in. Suffice it to say he had cracked ribs, one of his bones in his arms was cracked and near broken, and finally: the concussion. I didn't know much about this man, but it was clear he made enemies quickly.

There was, also, the matter of the hook.

His left hand was gone, capped with a place where he could insert the hook. A crude, but intelligent response to his injury, however he'd come about it.

I started to leave, but he spoke. "Love, would you mind telling me where I am?"

I turned around and clutched at my clipboard, surprised at what a pleasant voice he had. Given Sherriff Swan's reaction to him, I was expecting an all together unpleasant and cunning man. I hadn't imagined that his voice would sound so…friendly.

"You're at the hospital. Did you go over the town line? You're in Storybrooke, Maine." Details about the incident had not been provided to me, save what I needed to know and the gossip I'd overheard.

"Storybrooke," he sighed. "And the crocodile?" He kept his eyes closed while he spoke. He still rested against his pillow and seemed almost content to stay there. Or at least, he seemed to not want to go anywhere else.

I chuckled, "There are no crocodiles in Storybrooke." We weren't the right weather for them. I wondered if he'd dreamt of a crocodile in his sleep.

"Rumpelstiltskin," he said, and the name was a curse, a moan, a howl, all at once and yet without any malice directed at me. "How is he?" Evidently something in his past (perhaps in both our worlds?) bothered him about Mr. Gold. That wasn't unusual at all. At some point or another, Mr. Gold had been the last resource anyone could count on and his price was usually too much. At the time, he made it seem like nothing, but it was everything. I lost my younger sister to Mr. Gold because of a deal my father made.

"Mr. Gold is…upset," I had glimpsed him when they'd brought in Belle. Prince Charming, Snow White, and Sherriff Swan had all stepped up to keep him away from Mr. Jones, with hospital security, I'd never seen the Dark One so angry – or so worthy of his name.

"And the girl? What of her?"

"That's…I'm not supposed to talk about other patients." And I wasn't attending her. Mr. Gold wasn't really letting anyone take care of her. He spoke to the doctors and picked three nurses to dote on her. Or that's what I heard, but I didn't have any dealings with her. I just knew she'd been shot – allegedly by this man. And they'd been near the town line. So strange a place for all three to be, and two in the hospital now – and only one with memory loss! The only one who wasn't physically wounded was Mr. Gold, but he certainly acted as if something gave him a headache.

"What a pity, I trust you've taken care of her, though?"

"Of course…I'm sorry, I thought you _shot_ her." Maybe the rumors weren't true. Rumors so often aren't. Maybe he'd been trying to take care of her? But Mr. Gold had been seen with her…they appeared…friendly. It wasn't a relationship I supported in anyway. Mr. Gold was dangerous and not to be trusted.

As for the man before me, who knew?

"I did!" he sounded dismissive. "Doesn't mean I wish her any ill will. I'm merely looking to…enact revenge upon my crocodile – your Mr. Gold."

This man had a death wish. Perhaps I ought to recommend moving him to psychiatric care? Anyone crazy enough to wish revenge on Mr. Gold was asking for too much. The man controlled nearly everything. Perhaps he was dangerous, but only dangerous to himself. And to Mr. Gold or what Mr. Gold liked. It was a good thing for me, then, that Mr. Gold didn't care about me at all. I could safely secure this man's health to the best of my abilities and then the law would handle him.

I poured him a cup of water and he opened his eyes at the sound of water filling the cup. "That for me, love?"

"I figured you might be thirsty. You might be hooked up to fluids," he smirked at the term "hooked" and I blushed. I didn't comment on it though, the loss of his hand might stir about the need for security – this time to protect me! "But that doesn't mean your mouth doesn't feel dry. If you're hungry, I can arrange for a snack, you slept through breakfast and it's not quite yet lunch."

"Thank you, yes."

I stood there.

"Is there anything else?" he asked me.

"Well…I should ask you a few questions – um, first, how are you feeling?"

"Sore. Disappointed," he looked over at the window and then sat up. He made a face when the cold, recycled hospital air touched his back. "What am I wearing?" He plucked at the gown with his hand. His hands looked larger now that his rings were off, they weren't engulfed by large circles of metal here there and everywhere. He seemed to like jewelry – spoils of the sea?

"It's a hospital gown, it allows us access to your wounds and keeps your clothes from getting…well, dirty." There were too many things that could get on clothes in a hospital, I couldn't even begin to form a decent list. "Your head, any problems?"

"It aches."

"On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst pain ever, how bad does your head feel?"

"One." Either high pain tolerance, a lie, or he wasn't so much in pain as in discomfort. I wrote it down anyway.

"How about your chest? You have some nice bruises and cracked bones."

"Little awkward to breathe, but I'm getting the hang of it."

"And your arm?"

"Oh this?" he held up his arm, the one without the hand. "This is an old injury, darling. Doesn't hurt any more, though occasionally, it does itch." His lips curved up in amusement.

"No…the other one."

"Like the rest of me. Old, bruised, but I'll be fine, lass." He looked at me and studied me. I felt self-conscious. This was not how I would have looked if I'd ever met a pirate before the curse. Now I had on scrubs decorated with little stars.

"Do you need anything else?" I asked him.

"Yes," he said slowly. "What's your name, love?"

"Penelope," I told him. "Most people call me Penny, though."

"Penny…very nice to meet you, Penny. Will you be my nurse for all of my stay here?"

I had no way of knowing. "Rounds change." At his confused look, I explained. "We work shifts. Some days I get off, most days I'll be here until five." He looked at the clock when I gestured towards it. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to tell the Sherriff you're awake, and the doctor will want to see you first. I'll bring you back a snack."

He lifted the cup of water to his lips and drank. "Sounds delightful. Thanks, love."

I started to leave.

"One more question," he called out. I turned. "What was your name back in our world?"

I blinked. "It was Phoebe. Not that different, I wasn't anyone special."

"Well, you're special to me, love. First kind person here."

* * *

I carried the snack up to Mr. Jones' room. It consisted of an apple, a carton of milk, and a chocolate chip granola bar. I didn't know what he liked and no one knew about any allergies, so I decided to vary it to what I could. I also brought some magazines and a newspaper; he might like to read if he didn't want to watch television.

They had all agreed, I gathered, that it was best for Mr. Jones to remain here, at the hospital. They would potentially move him at an unknown (or undisclosed) date. Until I knew anything about him, I was determined to treat him like any other patient.

"Ah, Penny love," Mr. Jones greeted me with a smile. "It seems I'm to stay here a bit. And you're to nurse me, how lovely."

"Only for a third of the day," I smiled, "when I'm working." I set the food on his tray and showed him the reading I brought.

"They told me something," he took one of the magazines and glanced at it. A National Geographic – it was the closest I could find with anything about the sea. Unfortunately it was probably beyond his depths, it dealt with deep sea creatures. "A penny is a coin," he picked up one from his bedside table, where I noticed he'd also placed his water cup. "Miss Swan gave it to me. A pirate's treasure," he raised a brow.

"A very small amount of a pirate's treasure," I laughed. "But a penny saved is a penny earned."

"Not sure who this fellow is, here, though," he contemplated the coin. "Who is he?"

"President Abraham Lincoln," I answered and took hold of his wrist. He started and I explained I was taking his pulse. I looked at my watch, timed it, and then wrote it down.

"What's a president?" he asked.

"Sort of a ruler, an elected ruler – not like a queen or a king, he has rules that keep him in check, he can't just decide everything on a whim."

"I see." He abandoned the penny and picked up the granola bar. He didn't eat it, he turned it over in his hands, then looked up at me. "Is this supposed to be food?"

I showed him how to open it and then felt horrible. I had to use both hands – how did he open things like this? Had I insulted him? "You've gone pale, lass," he commented when I handed him the granola bar. He took a bite and chewed it with the expression of great contemplation. He seemed to like it, though, and he continued to eat it.

"Oh, I just…your hook," I explained.

"Yes, that's my name."

"They told me Killian Jones, Mr. Jones –"

"Penny, call me Hook. And have no fear; I'm not bothered by it. I've grown used to it after all these years. And I rather like it. Somewhat menacing, don't you think?"

I held out the thermometer. "This goes in your mouth, and you'll need to not talk."

I slid the thermometer under his tongue and then recorded the temperature. "How did you lose it?"

"A crocodile," he answered easily. "The one you call Mr. Gold."

"Why a crocodile?" I asked. "Why not the Dark One?"

"Well, that's a title he gave himself – or took. When I met him, he didn't have it. And he is a crocodile, looked like one, acted like one, and you know what they say, Penny-love, it walks like –"

"Do you always do that?" I asked.

He finished off the granola bar and picked up the milk carton. I opened that for him so he could see how. I had to remember that he hadn't been part of the curse. He didn't know how things operated here. "Do what?"

"Call people 'love', and 'lass', and 'darling', and all that."

"What would you prefer I call you?" He drank from the milk carton.

"Penny is fine."

"I like Penny-love," he smirked, somehow managing to look villainous from behind something as innocent as a milk carton, something school children had every school day. "Tell me something, Penny-love," he winked. "What did you do in our land?"

"I was a healer," I told him. "It's probably why I'm a nurse here. But don't think I can get you any favors with the Prince and Princess or the Sherriff, I was a nobody. I'm still a nobody."

"I told you, you're –"

"I like being a nobody," I continued, as if he hadn't spoken. "It means I don't answer to anyone unless I chose to. It means no one can send me or use me against someone else."

"Smart," he commented. "But I had other reasons for asking."

"What's that?"

"Your voice." He smiled. "You should have been a singer."

"Thank you." I started for the door. "I'll see you on my next circle."

"I look forward to it!" Mr. Jones called out and then turned his attention to the newspaper.

* * *

Mr. Jones felt a lot better; I noticed how he seemed like he was stuck. All injured men who feel better start getting antsy. Women have it easier but they also get antsy. Being bedridden isn't all that fun. He paced around his room in pajamas and soon he would have regular clothes. Now that the outside world could come into Storybrooke, well, walking around in pirates' clothing would attract too much attention.

"Morning, Penny-love," he greeted me when I walked in.

"Morning, Mr. Jones."

"How many times do I have to tell you, it's Hook."

"The usual today, Hook," I held out the thermometer and indicated the cuff to take his blood pressure.

"I think not," he smiled that devilish smile. He'd had that same smile when I'd shown him how to use the TV. He was now addicted to NCIS and game shows. He liked watching people gamble. "They're taking me to prison today," he looked at the cuff. "If you say I'm –"

"I can't lie to the Sherriff."

"That's the beauty of it! You don't take your little notes, they won't let me go. Give me enough time and I can –"

"There's a good chance, Hook, that your sentence will be small. You might just…I don't know."

"Be banished?" he asked, his voice cracking. "Go back the way I came? And never see anyone again? You don't know what it's like there. It's all gone."

There was a crack in Hook's armor. I could see it. "You're afraid," I commented. "Afraid of being alone."

Instead of saying anything about that, he walked towards me. "Well, if you won't help me out…will you visit me in prison, Penny-love?"

"Of course," I agreed.

A true smile appeared on his face. "Good. I'll look forward to it." He reached out and cupped my face in his hand. Then he leaned in close, paused for a moment, giving me a chance to break away if I so desired. I should have. This was not according to rules but then again…I was a "fairytale character" according to this world. I shouldn't even exist. So I'd already broken a huge rule in this world, why not another?

We kissed and when we separated, he stroked my face. "Bring me a penny, would you Penny-love?"

"Why?"

"A pirate always keeps a treasure."

I took his vitals, brought up a set of clothes.

I handed him the penny I'd gotten from my coin purse and he accepted it. "A true pirate's treasure – a friend. Or at least a pretty face who's friendly. Thank you, kindly, darling."

In return, he gave me the penny he'd gotten from the Sherriff. Sherriff Swan came up to escort him down to the police car and Rumpelstiltskin watched. Security stood on guard in case he tried anything. Who "he" meant in this case, I didn't know.

"Trust me," Mr. Gold said to me as he started to leave, soon as Hook was away. "He'll get justice."

"I hope so." I replied. "Good day, Mr. Gold," I nodded and headed to finish my rounds.


	2. Peter Pan - Corrected

Disclaimer: As usual, I own nothing.

Chapter Two

Peter Pan: The Corrected Version

Going from the idea that all prison inmates wore orange jumpsuits to real life was surprisingly odd. Then again, I suppose it made sense that the prison in an Earth city created for fairytale characters would be different. If I could get beyond the town line and see for myself, maybe just maybe they were orange or maybe they were all different.

Hook did not wear an orange prison jumpsuit. He wore a pair of jeans, black sneakers (without the shoelaces), and a blue sweater. Sherriff Swan gave me an hour with him to visit but I gathered that she didn't really care. She could see the cells and his was protected by magic, placed there by the Queen. The Evil Queen had been absolved her "crime" now that we knew Archie was actually alive and with Henry's permission, she enchanted the cell to keep Rumpelstiltskin from harming him. It was the safest place for him in all of Storybrooke.

By the time I reached his cell, he stood. "Well, Penny-love, you actually came."

"I told you I would," I adjusted the strap of my purse on my shoulder. "It's my day off." Sherriff Swan handed me the bag I'd brought in and nodded. "I brought you some things," I said and opened the bag. "Two books," I handed them to him through the bars. "_Moby Dick_ is a classic – it's about whale hunting, well…a man looking for revenge against a whale. It was…nautical, so I thought you might like it." He looked at the tome and placed the other book on his bed. With his good hand he held it up in the air and weighed it. "I know, it's big, but…I didn't know what to get you."

"Why does the man want revenge on a whale?" he asked.

"Well…the whale bit his leg –"

"So it reminded you of me and my crocodile?"

I grinned, "No, actually…that's the next book. See we're fairytale characters here, so they have badly written histories. You're featured in that one – _Peter Pan_."

"Oh, I remember him." He turned his attention to that book. "Cheeky little fellow. Leader of the Lost Boys – orphans, abandoned." He stroked the spine and then looked at the cover, where the titular character was surrounded by the stars.

I leaned towards the bars, "I have to ask…did Peter Pan really beat you in a sword fight?"

"Love, you ever play with children?" he asked me. I nodded. I had many siblings, many younger than me. I also had patients who were children on occasion. "You never, ever beat them. Don't discourage them and besides, wouldn't have been a fair fight. Experience and knowledge over youth and play. So I'm in this one, am I? And how do I end?" I looked away. "Thought so. They all seem so keen to cast me as a villain, justly so in many ways. But I've never harmed anyone who didn't warrant it." He looked past me, towards Emma when he spoke. I didn't turn around, I didn't want to see the reaction.

I reached into my bag and took out a small book of puzzles. "And here are some time killers, mostly word searches and little things like that, no crosswords since I didn't think you'd get the references."

"I'm starting to," Hook nodded. "Swan lets me watch TV sometimes. Though from what I understand, I can't leave this room. I'm beginning to feel a bit…trapped. Perhaps once she could open a window?" He raised his voice towards the end so Emma could hear it. "But I doubt it would smell like the sea. And this bed is so…flat. So…hard. I'm used to one that's rocked by the sea. Have you ever been sailing?"

"No," I confessed. "I want to explore the world, have adventures – everyone does – but…never had the opportunity."

He leaned forward, the top of his hair brushed the bars between us. "You should. Get out while you can, love, there's nothing more beautiful than the sun on the waves."

* * *

I unlocked my door and stepped inside. My cat lifted her head from her paws and then went back to sleep. "Hi to you too, Wendy," I stroked her forehead and then headed to the kitchen counter where I deposited my shopping bags. First, I put away the frozen goods and then I began to stock my cupboards. There was a newspaper, but I purposefully avoided that at the moment. Wendy followed me into the kitchen and sat next to her food dish. I glanced at her. She had plenty of dry cat food, but as always, she anticipated her can of wet cat food. I didn't know how she could eat it, it smelled so gross. "Not yet," I told her and then turned my attention to the paper.

So many stories, so many little bits of truth and accusation to get through. I skimmed the articles that warned about Cora – the Evil Queen's mother – and how best to protect yourself: don't get involved.

I had no plans to get involved but honestly that seemed a bit rude. We weren't the ones at fault, we shouldn't have to protect ourselves. We shouldn't have had to protect ourselves from anything! Regina's problem had been with Snow White. And Rumpelstiltskin was…the Dark One, he had a problem with everything. I was tired of being afraid of these people.

The problem was…I was afraid of them. They'd made my life difficult and they didn't seem to be reasonable people. They ruined my life by taking us all away and removing our memories. We were all unhappy, now we had a chance to be happy again.

Or some of us did. Some of our "happy endings" involved others not getting a happy ending. So would we compromise and be content or would some of us not get our happy endings?

Wendy jumped up on the table near the bags.

"No, down," I picked her up and set her on the floor. She mewed at me and I sighed. "No, I'm going to finish my book and then you'll get to eat." I only had two chapters left of the latest installment of A Game of Thrones, which Moe French/Belle's father had recommended to me. It inspired the name of his flower shop. I set the newspaper aside and went to my couch. I picked up my book and settled in to finish reading.

I only got to finish one chapter, Wendy purring at my side, and then the doorbell rang. I looked up from the page and sighed. I was so close to the end!

Nevertheless, I put the bookmark in between the pages and went to answer the door.

Wendy followed for a ways, until she realized I had no intention of going to her food dish. Then she climbed the stairs and sat down on an arbitrarily selected step to watch over me and my actions. I opened the door to find Sheriff Swan, Prince Charming, and Snow White on my porch.

"Your highnesses….this is an honor," I stepped back and gestured for them to come inside. They did and I offered them tea and took their coats. Mary Margaret graciously accepted my offer of tea and I went to boil some water. Delighted at the prospect of my entry into the kitchen, Wendy bolted down the steps, squeezed through David's legs, and shot to her bowl. "Not now," I told her, "we have company."

I brought four cups and my assortment of tea bags to the living room where they had assembled themselves. Quickly, I invited them to sit. They did so and I went back to get the tea pot of hot water and a package of cookies. I took a seat and poured water for all of them and myself. After refreshment had been distributed I asked, "What can I do for you?"

"It's come to our attention," David said, "that you're close to Hook."

I shook my head, "I wouldn't say close. We're…somewhat friends. He was my patient when he was in the hospital and I visit him at the jail. I didn't know visiting hours, so I went today, it's my day off. I figured he needs a friend right now."

"I'm not so sure about that," Emma took a sip of her tea. "I think he needs to get away from Gold and fast – but we've got to do something about what he did to Belle."

I nodded. "I agree with that too. I read in the paper that Hook's been charged with assault." Second Degree Assault, according to the Maine laws. It was a felony. I had no idea how long he could stay behind bars, but I imagined it might be a long time.

"And he'll go to trial," Mary Margaret told me. "We're going to do this fairly. And the trial is why we're here."

"Oh, ok," I put my tea down. I knew how this would work. They would probably ask me a few questions about Hook's injuries, about what he'd been like to treat. I'd have to sit in the witness chair, explain things to the jury members, and -

"And you're our best character witness," David interrupted my thoughts.

"Wait, character witness?" I asked. "But Sheriff Swan – you were with him in our world, same as you, your highness," I addressed Mary Margaret. "Surely you know him better –"

"Snow and I'll be the judges," David took Mary Margaret's hand and she nodded. "So Snow doesn't count. Emma has her own role as sheriff. But other than that, you're the only one who's neutral. You're not making a judgment, you have nothing to gain or lose by testifying."

I wanted to argue with that, I wasn't sure why. I would lose something if I testified – but I wasn't sure just what. There was nothing I could say that would send Hook to a harsh punishment. His actions alone would condemn him. My vision swam and I controlled myself. "What do you want out of this?" I asked them. "For him to be imprisoned or worse?"

"Hook teamed up with Cora," Emma said flatly. "He brought her here on his ship. He's dangerous."

"But you spent time with him – surely you can see that he's…he's only dangerous to himself because he's angry, afraid, and alone."

I said it with such resolve that I realized just how much I truly believed that. And it made sense, I'd dealt with patients who bore through the hardest pain with a smile only to cry out in agony when they thought no one could hear or see. He's a pirate, I reasoned with myself, a captain – he had to control himself. And it's ok for pirates to be angry –

"I'll be a character witness," I told the Charmings. "But if you're hoping for me to say he needs to be locked away forever, I won't do it. I don't think it's true."

* * *

I went back to the prison a few days after, this time armed with games. I had selected Scrabble, a chess set, and Battleship. I also brought homemade cookies and a thermos of hot chocolate. I'd picked a new book too. This one nothing like what he was used to, no ships, no retellings of his life, nothing at all like that. I brought a copy of _Sherlock Holmes_. I couldn't recall there being any ships in it, anyway.

"Hello, Hook!" I said cheerfully, while Emma rummaged through what I'd brought. She opened Hook's cell and allowed him to come out so that we could use a table for the games.

"Penny-love," he leaned over and kissed my cheek. "What have you brought?"

"Games, hot chocolate, cookies, and a new book, just in case you didn't like the others –"

"I'm quite enjoying _Moby Dick_," Hook said with a smile. "A man I can understand. And I enjoyed reading about myself, which reminds me…Ms. Swan, might I return to my cell for a moment?"

Emma gestured at the open door and said, "Help yourself. Might just lock you in there."

"Oh you wouldn't," Hook laughed it off. "You adore me and our witty banter."

He picked up the copy of _Peter Pan_ that I had given him and walked over to the table where I set out cups of hot chocolate. "Here you are." I took it from him and frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Well…it was for you."

"Quite so, and I appreciate it. But I think you'll enjoy reading this version." I started to open it but he stopped me. "Let's play one of your games, I get so few visitors."

We set up chess because he was familiar with it. He did pick up the Battleship box and ask me, "Do you think I don't know anything other than the sea?"

So I had to confess to him that I didn't know what he liked and was guessing. Since he'd chosen the occupation of a pirate, I figured he liked the sea and it would be a safe standby.

We played one game of chess and surprisingly, I won. It was a surprise because the game took forever. He made clever moves, took his time, was extremely patient and didn't try to goad me into making little mistakes. It was an even match. He seemed so much more intelligent than anyone seemed to give him credit for.

Except for wanting to hurt Rumpelstiltskin – that was still the epitome of stupid.

We talked for a while until Emma said he needed to go back into his cell. She and her deputy (Prince Charming/David) were going away and he couldn't be out. "I can stay here," I offered, "make sure he doesn't leave."

Hook grinned; I think he was pleased that with all the magic on his door, I still thought he could get out.

"Just for a little while, let me call down someone and then you have to leave. Visiting hours are almost over anyway," Emma looked truly sorry. I accepted the terms though.

Hook went back into his cage and Emma shut him in.

I pulled up a chair and we continued our talk. He told me about his adventures, the travels and I listened attentively and with wide eyes. He spoke of mermaids (and when asked to describe them said: half fish, half human), of monstrous sized fish that threatened to capsize his vessel, and of the camaraderie of the crew he'd once had. In return I told him about the herbs I had learned, why green was my favorite color (because of all the plants), about games with my siblings, and that I had a cat named Wendy.

The door opened and I imagined Emma had come but Hook's face darkened and I turned around. "Crocodile," Hook said with disgust. "How's your girl?"

"Killian, please, don't upset him," I whispered, using Hook's real name. I wanted him to get the severity of it. He might be safe behind that wall of magic, but I wasn't…

"I won't answer any questions about Belle to you. I've only come to tell you that I shall enjoy every second of your trial – which starts in a week."

"I'll enjoy it too, Crocodile, because then everyone will know _what you did_."

I felt trapped between two incredibly dangerous men. On one side was Hook, who knew how to fight. On the other side was Mr. Gold, with more magic than I had air in my lungs.

Though the relative levels of oxygen in my lungs at the moment were probably really low.

"Please don't fight," I begged them both. "Please. Let it be settled _like adults_."

Hook put his hand on my shoulder, "You're trembling, love, don't tell me this coward frightens you."

I said nothing. I couldn't say anything. Every time I looked at Mr. Gold since I got my memories back I remembered my mother's and father's cries, the sound of my father begging and the Dark One's dismissals – the sounds of my baby sister as Rumpelstiltskin took her away. I never knew what he did with her. I never saw her again. My mother went mad with grief and my father regretted ever making the deal. The deal that saved our home from a dragon. "Better," he said, "to have died together than have one stolen from us."

"SWAN!" Hook yelled. "SWAN! HOW DO YOU EXPECT ME TO PROTECT AN INNOCENT FROM BEHIND BARS?! COME CAST THIS DEMON BACK TO HELL!"

"I won't harm the girl," Mr. Gold sneered. "She's nothing to me."

"You're a devil, crocodile, and your time of frightening people is nearly at an end. TICK TOCK!" Hook's fingers curled into a fist, gripping my shirt.

Mr. Gold looked around the room and saw the remains of our game, the cookies, the hot chocolate. Slowly he turned to me. "You'd befriend this petty thief?"

My voice locked inside my throat as I recalled my sister's cries. I recalled my family's tears. "Leave him alone!" I burst out. "He's behind bars and you're free! Just leave him alone! Haven't you done enough to everyone already?"

"What did you do to her? SWAN! Leave, beast, or come back prepared for a fair fight. SWAN!"

"What is the –" Emma stopped and looked at Mr. Gold. "You need to leave. Now. Both of you," she addressed me in this.

I broke away from Hook's grasp and went to the table. With a great haste, I gathered the items I had brought, except for the cookies. I nearly forgot the copy of Peter Pan, but I grabbed that before I rushed out. "Goodbye, Hook!" I called out.

"Be safe, Penny-love," he called to me. I heard him start to say something to Emma, but I ran to my car and drove away. I wanted to get as far away from Mr. Gold and my memories.

I wanted to know what he'd done to my sister. Why he'd taken her. What had he needed so badly that he'd destroyed my family for?

Inside my house, I sat with Wendy, her purrs soothing me. She knocked over my bag and the board games spilled out with the book. Pieces of the games cluttered to the floor and I began to pick the little Battleship pegs up. An odd out of bounds piece of paper caught my eye. Poor binding on the book? I wondered as I picked it up. Then I opened it and found several drawings done in pen.

One was a map of an island labeled NEVERLAND. It featured a key, notations about where the "Lost Boys" lived, the mermaids, and the like.

The second was a drawing of a fairy, the third of a boy, and the fourth of a ship named the JOLLY ROGER.

_Peter Pan_ is a short book, I thought, and opened the book to begin to read. The title page caught my eye.

_Peter Pan_

J. M. Barrie

And Captain Killian Jones, also known as Captain Hook

To correct Mr. Barrie's errors.

The last lines were written in pen, in Hook's hand, I guessed. I flipped through the book and noticed notes in the margins. Hook's corrections.


	3. The Jolly Roger

Disclaimer: I don't own anything. The excerpt is from J M Barrie's "Peter Pan".

Chapter Three

The Jolly Roger

After reading _Peter Pan_, I decided to go and investigate _The Jolly Roger._ I knew that it was in Storybrooke, Hook had mentioned its presence during his hospital stay. He'd asked me if I knew what had happened to his ship. But whereas Barrie had written the description of _The Jolly Roger_ as:

"a rakish-looking craft foul to the hull, every beam in her detestable like ground strewn with mangled feathers. She was the cannibal of the seas, and scarce needed that watchful eye, for she floated immune in the horror of her name."

Hook had written:

"a beautiful craft, as clean as the men could make it (punished or not, I'll not have a dirty ship, and neither would Milah). A craft her builders could be proud of, a craft I cherish to this day, my home. And if anyone shakes in fear of her name, I'm proud of that too."

So I had to see her for myself. The magic had been pulled off the ship, to expose her for what she really was. The Dark One had done it himself, but the Charmings stopped him from doing anything more. They needed to look it over, find evidence. Hopefully it wouldn't be roped off or anything. I hoped they got what they needed. But just in case they didn't, I gathered a couple pairs of latex gloves (I'm a nurse, I keep a box in my work bag at all times) and a box of Zip-Locs, q-tips, and a little Swiss Army knife.

I headed to the docks and walked along them. It wasn't difficult to spot_ the Jolly Roger_. She was a very pretty ship, just as Hook described her – clean. Well painted, at least I couldn't see any signs of paint chips. Hook must care for her a lot, or his crew gets in trouble often – did, maybe. Where was his crew?

The plank up to the ship had police tape marking all over it, but I slipped some hospital socks over my sneakers to avoid messing up any evidence too badly, and decided that this time I would do the right thing – that I would know what to do with the information I had. If Hook deserved prison (I didn't think he did), then I would know from what I found and heard. I've known from patients that there's a lot you can tell about a person by what they bring to the hospital. Hook hadn't brought anything, but this ship was his home, I could learn from that. And he'd told me that Mr. Gold attacked him on his ship.

All this in mind, I stepped over the police tape and went about my way.

No one else was there. No guardians of the ship, just me and the cries of the birds.

I didn't know ships. I really didn't know much besides my life in Storybrooke and the hospital and my home back when…well, I lived inland, on land, the closest I got to water was swimming in a pond. And baths. Baths count, I suppose? So which direction would I find the most evidence? On one end was the big steering wheel – the helm? Could I apply that _Star Tre_k term to real life? The other didn't seem to have much. High above was a crow's nest, where the lookout would be. I knew that from _Titanic_. I carefully looked over the climb it would take to get up there and decided against it. Slip-free hospital socks over my sneakers didn't seem to be the most promising for climbing. Waxed floors? Yes. Climbing a pole? For some reason, I thought not. I headed to the big wheel – helm…maybe I should have brought a nautical dictionary?

Standing next to it, I looked ahead and was absolutely sure that this was where a captain would stand. This was the control of the ship. I put my gloves on and then touched the helm/wheel. This was the bridge, but what was the wheel called? I could ask Hook. I could imagine myself sailing on this ship, sailing along, the land behind me, a distant past. I could leave Storybrooke, leave behind the memories of Mr. Gold, the curse cast by the Queen, and be my own person, subject to the weather only. I'd lied to Hook earlier, I was subject to things. But I never harmed them; they just harmed me and my family.

My parents had made the deal with Rumpelstiltskin to save our house and for another reason – to save my brother. My eldest brother had been falsely accused of a crime and the Queen wanted to have him pay for it. They'd accused him of stealing a palace horse. He hadn't, the horse ended up near our house after my brother found her in the woods with a broken hoof. He'd brought her home to take care of her and then go tell the Queen. He just made it home when they came to arrest him.

I left the steering wheel alone and went down the steps to where there was a jumble of rope and cargo – or what I assumed was cargo. It was around the area where I'd entered the ship. The sails above me flapped and I looked up at them, they seemed to wave to me, to encourage me. I looked down and noticed some odd rust colored spots on the rope.

Rope didn't rust…

I knelt down and brought the rope close to me so I could inspect it. This wasn't rust at all. It was dried blood.

And it wasn't just on the rope, there were spots on the floor, but there wasn't a sign that anyone had marked it as evidence. I reached into my pocket and took out the Swiss Army knife and flicked open the blade. I scraped some of the blood and put it into a bag, sealing it shut, evidence. I took out another bag and put some more dried blood in it. I had a friend in the lab, I could have them run a DNA analysis and see if it was Hook's. We had already drawn his blood and must have the readings there somewhere. We _do_ keep records after all.

I finished there and tucked the now used bags into my pocket and found some stairs. Carefully I went down them. I knew not where I was going, but I needed to make sure I remembered how I got there.

I explored the ship and found that most of it was empty, save for what seemed to be essentials.

Finally I found Hook's cabin. (Cabin? Quarters? Room?) I took out my phone and made a note to go to the library and check out a book on ships. His room was the biggest room of them all, which was fitting, he was the Captain. A bed, large enough for two people, was pushed to the side nearest the window. His sheets were messy, the bed unmade. I looked at the desk and the closet, deciding which to open first.

I grabbed the doors to the closet and opened it. Leather jackets hung, pants were on the floor. I closed the doors; clearly Hook used his closet for legitimate reasons, unlike me. I shoved anything into the closet if I couldn't figure out where to put it and I had to clean on short notice.

Last thing was the desk. There were maps rolled up and in easy to grab cases. I unrolled two and looked over the map of our land. I found the spot where my home had been and I touched it. According to rumors, that land was ruined, gone. My home was gone.

I rolled up the map and turned to the other papers on Hook's desk. There was a ton of math, I hadn't seen this much math since my – well, since a final in Storybrooke's little college. I could barely figure it out until I remembered that he would have to plot the courses and then it made some sense. There were lists as well, lists of crew members, of losses, of gains, of things needed (I saw a lot of fruit and rum, if I didn't know about scurvy and preservation of food, I would have been confused. Milk would spoil, any drinkable liquid other than liquor and water would go bad or become alcohol. All their food would have to be easily preserved and stored, it wasn't like they had fridges and freezers for meat on pirate ships back home.) Then I saw a book near the bed and picked it up.

All the pages were filled with drawings just like the ones Hook had given to me in _Peter Pan_. There was one drawn of a woman, a smile on her face, hair blown back from her face. In Hook's hand, he'd written her name: _Milah. _

I turned a few pages and looked through some of them. One was labeled _Peter Pan_. Another was _Tiger Lily_. These were Hook's memoirs, in a way. I held it tightly and wondered if I should take it with me, take it to protect it. Clearly they'd decided that it wasn't worthy of evidence, but I thought differently. This showed what Hook went through, what he experienced – not in words, but in pictures.

What if Mr. Gold were to find this? He'd destroy it.

I flipped through more of the work and saw a lot of Milah, plenty of scribbles as well, plenty implying that his memory wasn't standing up to the test of time. This was something Hook needed. I put it in my bag. I would keep it safe and talk about it with Hook.

I looked out the window and tried to imagine what Hook felt when he first came to Storybrooke. He was different from us in that he was aware of his arrival and remembered it all.

My phone rang and I jumped. With fumbling fingers, I took it out and answered it. "Hello?"

"Hi, Penny, it's Mother Superior from the hospital."

"Is there a problem?" I asked, worried.

"Sort of, Melody's sick, so she can't come in to work today. I was wondering if you'd take her shift?"

"Oh," I breathed a sigh of relief. "Of course. When does her shift start?" Mother Superior told me and I agreed to be there on time.

I left the ship and headed home. I had to hide Hook's book, just so Mr. Gold didn't find it. I also needed to get my scrubs and feed Wendy, since I would be away during her usual feeding time.

I hid Hook's book in my underwear drawer, like I kept all my secrets. It was stupid, but honestly, wasn't the last place anyone wanted to go through the place where you keep your underwear? I covered it with socks and old bras I didn't wear any more but couldn't throw out. One day I might need it for parts, like if a still good bra gets its hook stuck in the dryer and I have to replace the clasp.

I changed into my plain scrubs and put my hair up to keep it away from my face and headed to work with one plastic bag. Before reporting for the shift, I successfully convinced Mark to run the blood sample against Hook's blood report. It wouldn't take long, and it wasn't that hard to get Mark to run a test like that, he really liked it. No idea why.

Midway through the shift, with vomit in my hair, and headed for the shower, Molly held out a portable staff phone to me and said, "It's for you."

"Can whoever it is call back?" I asked. "I have vomit in my hair."

Molly made a face but wasn't otherwise surprised. One of our cases had a severe case of food poisoning. And no, it wasn't from an apple. And at some point in our careers we had all been exposed to practically every sort of body fluid available, gastric bile being one of the more frequent. She put the phone to her ear and spoke, "Can you call back? Well, she's a bit busy. No. No! Surely you're joking. That's rude! And disgusting!"

I had a funny suspicion that I knew who was on the other end of the line. I held out my hand for the phone. Might as well get this over with. Molly handed it to me and I put it against the cleanest ear. "What do you want, Hook?" I asked.

"Penny, darling, you don't sound overjoyed to learn I've managed this contraption or to hear my pleasant voice!"

"I'm covered in vomit, Hook, I can't say there's much I would be pleased to hear that _isn't_ a shower."

"Well, I'll make this brief then. I want to know why you're so afraid of the Crocodile. What did he do to you in our land? Or in this land?"

I pushed a vomit covered tendril of hair away from my forehead and wanted to gag. The problem with hair was that it was so easy to get stuff into it and so difficult to get stuff out of it. Maybe I should have just shaved my head. But then it would be on my skin as well as the skin on my forefinger – oh gross. I really wanted to shower.

"Penelope?"

"I don't want to talk about this." I said honestly. "You can't pester me at work either. Some of us have jobs – honest jobs." There was too much venom in my voice that escalated way too quickly. One moment I went from feeling icky to feeling outraged.

"You've asked me many questions," Hook's voice was hard. "And I've not lied to you. The least you can do is answer one of mine."

"No. I did the least of what I could do." I'd broken the law and gone into a crime scene illegally, I'd gathered evidence and removed an object from a crime scene – or a sort of crime scene. I'd helped him learn to breathe with his busted ribs, I'd taught him a bit about this world. "I've gone beyond that, Killian. And I really don't –" tears were hot in my eyes as I thought of my brother's protests that he was innocent, of my father going into town to look for Rumpelstiltskin, of my mother's screams – those of labor and birth to the ones when her child was taken away. I thought of the hole in my life that was never knowing, that was not knowing how to go about knowing – "I don't want to…" I tried to compose my voice but it faltered and wobbled. Tears splashed down my cheeks. "I don't want to talk about this. I'm going to shower." I took the phone away from my ear, pressed "end", and looked at it. Even though that ear had been covered with the least amount of vomit, it still had some smudges of rejected body fluid on it. I grabbed a tissue and wiped it off before giving it to Molly at her desk.

"You ok?" she asked, seeing my face.

"I feel sick," I told her. "I'm going to shower." And I ran down the hall to the staff women's restroom.

* * *

After work, Matt gave me an envelope containing the test results, and I headed to my car. In my concern to hide the book and get to work on time, I hadn't placed much thought to putting my keys in the right pocket. So I had to dig through my purse to find my keys.

"Hello, Penelope."

I looked up from my open purse to see Mr. Gold leaning on his cane and looking at me. "Mr. Gold," I said politely, "is Belle all right?"

"She's fine," he didn't sound all that friendly, but he wasn't mean either. "I wanted to ask what's your interest in the pirate."

Interest? Odd way to phrase it, I resumed my search for my keys and spoke. "I merely want justice done. I want it handled honestly, fairly, and accurately. Like the trial my brother wasn't given," I reminded him just who I was and that I remembered. Let him think that I was upset with Regina. "That he has good representation and doesn't have to resort to the lowliest of lows just to keep his life going." Well, cat was out of the bag now, so to speak. But maybe he still thought I was angry with Regina. I wasn't going to confirm or deny any of that. "I'm a nurse. I might not be a doctor, but I know the Hippocratic Oath and I know what my mother taught me when I learned to be a healer: _and this first, above all, do no harm_." I found my keys, unlocked my car door, and got in. Before I shut the door I wished him a good night.

Safe at home, I opened the contents of the envelope.

The blood matched Hook's.


	4. Cabin Fever

Standard disclaimer: I don't own anything. I'm not making any money from this. It's for fun.

Chapter Four

Cabin Fever

_Day one: "Penny-love, I'm not going to say I'm sorry because I'm not. I still want to know. But you could at least let me know the Crocodile is leaving you alone. Or, you know, stop by and see me. I don't have many visitors. I'm rather bored. And if you visit, I promise not to vomit on you. Or maybe I should and we could shower together?"_

_Day two: "Penny….I found this show called "Chopped" and it's absolutely wrong. There needs to be more blood. It's called chopped! But no one's getting anything chopped off! It's all these sniveling people crying over food. Rum was an ingredient though; I'd like some rum. If they changed the name of the show, I would really like it."_

_Day three: "Penny, I finished _Moby Dick_. I can't say I enjoyed the ending. In fact, the ending was a bit of a downturn. You need to find the author and tell him to change it – (Emma, in the background: He's dead.) – Hold on, Swan says he's dead. Good."_

_Day four: "You know, I only get one of these a day, right? Are you all right? Don't tell me you're upset with me, love. If you are, I can't imagine how you could ever handle the world. You must be so lonely. I could help. Come visit me, I'll cheer you up…just a moment – no, Swan, I'm not being disgusting! Do your job, don't eavesdrop!"_

_Day five: "Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penny. Penelope. Penelope. Penelope. Penny. Penny. Penny."_

_Day six: "I'm still not sorry."_

My mailbox hung open and I went out to remove the parcel that had arrived, a nautical dictionary with assorted bills and advertisements. There was another envelope, one without a return address label as well and I opened it. Inside was a single sheet of paper, completely blank. I looked at the handwriting for clues but was at a loss, my name and address had been typed on it. I looked down the street and decided it had to have been a prank. Enough kids lived on my street it made the most sense.

Hook had left me six messages, one each day. I listened to them, of course, but I hadn't returned any of them. I had several reasons, the first of which was: I wasn't sorry either. I hadn't done anything wrong. Illegal? Yes. But wrong? No. The second was that I was a bit uncertain as to how to handle the sketchbook I'd saved from Hook's ship. Would he be grateful or would it be like how I reacted when my brother found my journal and taunted me about my writing? Third, was work. I had been working full time and outside of that, I'd been trying to relax. I was sort of concerned one patient had pink eye and I didn't want to catch it, so I was constantly checking for symptoms. I didn't sleep well either, my dreams were filled with Hook, crocodiles, and all sorts of bad memories.

My phone rang and I answered it as I gathered my things. I intended to visit Hook, I had scanned and printed the first page of his sketchbook so as to bring that to him. I wouldn't tell him I looked through all of it, just that I saw this, thought it was personal, and was keeping it safe. "Hello?" I asked, putting my keys in the right spot this time.

"Hi, this is Emma –"

"Hello, Sheriff, what can I do for you?" I asked. I had mailed the results discreetly, hadn't even stamped it and worn gloves. I wasn't stupid, I watched procedural crime shows. I wasn't going to leave any evidence that I did it and that I'd gone onto the ship.

"Any chance you can come down this morning?"

"Actually, I have one thing to pick up and I'm on my way to the station. Why? Is something wrong?" Wendy rubbed against my leg and begged for attention. I knelt down to pet her. She sat contentedly but didn't purr. Clearly, I wasn't doing a good enough job.

"Well…let's just say Hook's gone stir-crazy. Could you get down here soon? I'd rather explain in person…" Emma sighed. "I mean, it's not theatrics at all. Or if it is, he's managed to convince every single person and it's the best performance – it's Oscar worthy if it's fake."

Wendy looked annoyed as I stood up and grabbed my things. "I'm on my way." I told her.

Theatrics? I locked my door and got into my car. Hook and theatrics? I drove to the bookstore and picked up my order. I got back in the car and wondered what he could be doing that concerned them all so much. I imagined migraines, I imagined nausea, itching at his missing hand, psychosomatic issues because that's what stir-crazy is: it's the result of being inside too long that you just get all antsy. Hook's a pirate, he's used to a ship, with the option for a top deck setting. The open air, the sea, the docks – all of that. It wouldn't surprise me at all if he felt cooped up, but the question was "how cooped up" and what did he need to feel less cooped up?

I arrived at the Sheriff's station and got out of the car, surprised to see so many cars. I recognized Regina's and Mr. Gold's. What were they doing there? Snow White's car was there too, along with David's. So the whole powers of our town were stuck inside the station to discuss a case of cabin fever? Perhaps Hook had checked out of the hospital too soon. I grabbed my bag and walked towards the door of the station, only to have David open the door for me. "Glad you made it."

"Is everyone here?" I asked. "Doesn't her highness still teach at the school?" Or were the children done for lessons until…something happened? I wondered if I would see Henry.

"We wanted Snow's opinion," David informed me and I thanked him for holding the door open. Everyone turned at the sound of our approach. Gold's eyes narrowed, Regina looked right through me. "Well…here she is."

I peeked past them and noticed Hook's cell was empty. "Hi," I said, "what's wrong?"

"See for yourself," Emma suggested and led me to a room with a two-way mirror. I knew it was a mirror because Hook didn't look at me or anyone, he didn't respond to us and I put my finger against the glass. "He can't hear or see us." Emma confirmed my knowledge. But why was he in an interrogation room?

I watched Hook for a few minutes. His eyes were twitching and he looked pale. He couldn't sit still; his legs bounced, his arms moved, fingers tapped against the tabletop, as far as he could reach because he was chained. His eyes, twitching, looked about the room, as if hunting for the source of something.

"He has no idea we're watching him?"

"None." Regina confirmed. "I detect no magic from him or any foul play."

Archie nodded. "I've spoken with him. He fits all the criteria for a claustrophobic reaction. He's irritable, edgy, twitchy, and –"

"Ok…" I dragged the word out and then turned to the whole group. "And what exactly does this have to do with me?" Then I rethought what he said. "Oh, great! You want me to stick around with an irritated pirate? Thanks so much!"

Regina smiled at my sarcasm.

Mr. Gold sighed. Emma glanced at him and then looked at me, "You're his only friend. I'm willing to deputize you for the day and you can take Hook out to spend the day…out of the station. You can go shopping, go play on a playground, go to the park, but you have to stay where people can keep an eye on him. Gold's ok with this –"

"To a degree. I want him punished, not getting off with an insanity defense you've so cleverly thought of."

"No one's thought of anything," Snow White objected. "Except the truth and justice."

"He can have until five pm, then he's back in his box." Mr. Gold insisted.

_God, next time I get cursed, I really hope I end up with better curse mates_, I thought. "Deputize me?"

"We have jobs to do," Charming said. Jee, I see where he got his name, as if I didn't have a job. But I did have today off, so I suppose… "And you're his only friend. We can't let him out unsupervised."

"What exactly does a deputy do?"

"In this case, you're just to watch Hook and keep him from escaping or hurting others," Emma informed me. "You won't be a deputy after today."

I looked at Hook. "Sure, ok." I agreed. I'd helped him breathe through his pain, helped with the catheter, and a lot of other things in the hospital. "If it helps."

"Great," Emma handed me a badge and I stuck it in the pocket of my coat without even looking at it. I felt like a teenager again, getting assigned to babysit. She led me towards the door to the interrogation room but Gold stopped me.

"Five o'clock – not a second more," he warned me.

Everyone else hesitated, but I nodded, and he left. Then everyone left, except for Emma and David. Emma let me into the room and Hook turned to us. "Penny-love. Finally caved in, I see. I suppose you're here to beg forgiveness? Well, let's see you on your knees – go on then."

"Get over yourself, Killian," I rolled my eyes, reading the innuendo in his words. "In a long list of people I wouldn't sleep with, you're at the top of the list. And no, I won't beg forgiveness, though I do come with an offer."

"An offer?" He leaned towards me and I wanted to cover his eyes with my hand so I wouldn't see them twitch. It made me feel awkward. "Go on, then, love. _Mesmerize me_."

I looked at the clock. "Eight hours outside this building? Free to walk around? To see the sites and maybe even go down to the docks? Free to eat something you choose?"

Hook studied me. "Are you lying to me?"

"No."

"You lied to me once."

"I didn't know you'd react like that," I told him. "Nor did I realize just how much you'd poked at it." So removing catheters was uncomfortable, what the heck was I supposed to tell him? There were women in the maternity ward squeezing infants out their bodies, people in the ER for wounds, I was as gentle and fast as could be. "You're a pirate, shouldn't you be used to weird things?"

"Weird? Yes. Having a tube come out of my –"

"Stop," I held up a hand. "Your hours are ticking away, Hook. Yes or no?"

He leaned towards me. "What do you think?"

Emma unlocked Hook's cuff and he stood up shakily. "Hold on," I grabbed his wrist and timed his pulse. "What did you have for breakfast? How's your blood sugar? Any –"

"He ate."

"He ate what?" I asked Emma.

"A bowl of cereal."

"That's nutrition at its finest," I scoffed. "Come on. Let's get you a coat –"

"My coat –"

"That's being kept as evidence," Emma stopped him. "We have one for you." We left the room and David brought over a jacket. Hook accepted it with a look of utter disgust. But he put it on and we left the station.

Once outside, Hook paused and took a deep breath. "Smell that, lass? That's freedom."

I inhaled. "That's the smell of carbon monoxide and dying marigolds. You need to eat something nutritious. What kind of fruit do you like? Or we can stop somewhere and you can have a real breakfast."

Hook ignored me and took in deep breaths. He seemed better already. This was a good sign. I looked at the marigolds and went through the knowledge of the plant my mother had given me. It could reduce swelling and can help clear a stuffy nose, if you're desperate (you have to inhale it and then it irritates the nose so that you sneeze it all out, it's quite gross.) They were dying, though, someone hadn't taken decent enough care of them and they didn't appear to have been weeded properly. "Had you given any thought to your punishment, Hook? Did you think you could kill Mr. Gold and get away with it?"

"Actually, yes," he smiled at me. "And it's still what I would like to do. I only damaged him. Belle's memory loss isn't likely to be permanent and even if it is…who's to say he isn't coercing her into –"

"Actually, the less you tell me about this, the better. I think I saw that in an episode of _Law and Order_."

Hook turned around and looked at the station, as if for the first time. His eyes studied it seriously and I wondered what it was like to go through what he'd experienced: the strangeness of it all (he'd called nurses down to ask them about everything he couldn't figure out, so mainly stuff on the TV and the monitors. Once he figured out how to make the bed move up and down, I was forever finding him calling me down because of either 'look what I did' or 'I can't bloody breathe – how do I fix this?'), the inefficient revenge, the prison sentence, the car –

How was I going to get him into my car?

He hadn't had an option with the ambulance – he'd been unconscious. In fact, I'd had to tell him how he'd gotten to the hospital and then show him pictures of the ambulance (thank God for children's books!) whereupon he told me flat out that I was "insane" because he wouldn't ride in "that devil."

He hadn't had an option with Emma's car either. It was into the Sheriff's car of she'd probably have us sedate him.

"Hook." I said.

"Hmm?"

"Killian. We're going to have to get in the car."

"What?" He turned to me. "That bloody machine? That infernal…device? I can walk, thank you."

"We will," I promised. "But let's get closer downtown first? It'll take all of five minutes –"

"No. The only good modes of transportation are walking, a ship, or at worst, a cart."

"This is a cart, only because it doesn't have a hitch for horses it's lost the 't' in its name. _Hence 'car'_. Let's go."

I showed him how to open the door to the passenger's side and he got in. I got into the driver's seat and buckled up. He looked at me and waited for a comment. Finally he got it, and I told him to buckle up. I had to show him how to do that, which caused him to make snarky comments the whole time about how much I was enjoying this. I snapped the buckle into place and smirked at him. "I've got the keys, I know how this machine works – remember, Killian, I'm the one in control."

His smile became genuine and borderline sexual. "That's quite all right, love. Let's see you take control."

"Fine, first we're going to my house and you're going to promise not to get mad."

"Wait. What?"

I explained to him, very quickly, that I'd trespassed onto his ship (both in terms of Maine law and without asking him) and found his sketchbook. He looked out the window and for a moment, I worried he was going to shout. Instead he turned and asked how much I'd looked at it. I told him only the first couple pages and reached behind me to grab the envelope containing the printed copy out of my bag but Hook panicked.

"BOTH HANDS ON THE WHEEL!"

"Relax," I told him, "I've been driving for years. I know what I'm doing."

He closed his eyes and muttered something about how badly he wanted something to drink. At my house, I brought his sketchbook down and he tapped his fingers against it, but would not open it. I went through my fridge and cupboards before I offered a few choices for him to eat. "Fruit or a vegetable," I told him. "Dairy too. You've already had a grain, so how about…a yogurt parfait?"

He let me make one for him, so I added raspberries and blueberries to the plain yogurt and offered him some granola. I doubted he'd ever had a parfait, much less could spell it. "You need to eat better than just cereal," I told him as I poured a glass of juice for myself. He crunched loudly on the granola, as if to imply that it was cereal too.

"I'm a pirate," he reminded me. "Hard tack and gruel," his lips twitched and I smiled, he wanted to goad me into thinking his life was harder than it really was. He'd chosen the occupation and excelled at it, clearly he liked it enough to stay with it.

Wendy padded out into the kitchen and sniffed at Hook's leg. He looked down and smiled, "Well, hello there."

"That's my cat. Her name is Wendy."

"Oh, hello, Wendy darling, how –"

"No, it's not Wendy Darling, it's Wendy Pierce."

"What?"

I blinked and realized that we weren't saying the same thing, despite using the same words. He meant it as a term of endearment, I thought of _Peter Pan. _"My last name is Pierce. So that makes it hers too. Sorry, I just thought you were hinting at the book. I mean, I did read _Peter Pan_, and your corrections."

Hook laughed and then got down on the floor to pet Wendy. She sniffed his hand and then climbed onto his lap and purred. It was by far the fastest friendship she'd ever established, or at the very minimum, the fastest "this is an ok person" comment outside of Snow White. He didn't resort to the cooing voice that most people seemed to have with animals, he spoke to her like she was a tough lion and not a tamed tabby cat with one white ear on an otherwise all black body. "Why Wendy?" he asked.

"I found her on a Wednesday," I admitted. "I'm not terribly clever at names. My first pet – a fish – was named Fin."

Hook held up his arm, the one without his hand. "And I'm the one called 'Captain Hook', you can't exactly look for me to disgrace your name giving abilities now, can you?"

I cleared the table while Hook played with Wendy. She seemed delighted to have someone to play with that I felt guilty for not getting a second cat like all the websites encourage you to do. Though she probably just liked Hook because he was so…well, still childish in a way that matched a cat. No, not childish. The arrogance and I-will-get-what-I-want attitude. I've never met a cat without that attitude. And Hook had that, probably from being the captain.

The clock caught Hook's attention and he gestured to it. "Our time is limited. Shall we head downtown?"

"Yes, but we're taking the car."

"Oh," he sounded disgusted. "Why?"

"Because, if we do any shopping – and you might want to find something you can take back to the prison to keep you occupied – I don't want to carry it all around with us. Between the two of us, we have three hands."

"If Swan had given me my hook –"

"Can't do that, you're not licensed to carry a weapon."

"Who bloody says I need a 'license'?!"

"The state of Maine and really, the rest of the United States. If you really want to wave weapons around without consequences….might I suggest you buy your own island?"

We got into the car with less hassle, but not without fewer complaints. The one thing he did not complain about, however, was my choice in vehicle. He said nothing about the color, design, or anything to imply that my personal choice was horrendous. Small favors, it was an old car, but reliable and I knew how she worked.

A few minutes later, we were downtown and Hook got out of the car with relief. He left the jacket in the car. I left mine too, and transferred the deputy badge to my purse. I didn't know what to do with it.

The first store we went into rather fit the description of a child in Neverland: a candy store. We got two bags, as it was a pay-by-the-pound/fill-a-bag kind of store. Hook asked for my opinions on a lot since we weren't allowed to sample candy. He went for licorice and hard candy first, but got Skittles and M&Ms mixed up. "How do I know which is chocolate?" he asked. "They look the same."

"One has an S for Skittles – they're fruity. The other has an M, that's chocolate."

"Why not an 'f' for fruit and a 'c' for chocolate?"

"Because…reasons, I don't know. No one asked my opinion."

Hook's bag ended up being really expensive because of how much he'd picked out to try. I took out my credit card to pay for it and Hook looked pained when I paid. I didn't ask why, just took the bags and we headed on while Hook munched on a caramel coated apple. Since there were plenty of places that said "no food or drinks", we sat down on a bench and Hook worked his way to the core, getting caramel stuck in his beard. He offered me some of it but I declined. I had years of braces and I definitely remembered the first time I tried a caramel apple after getting them removed. Caramel was really hard to get out from between my teeth.

No matter the mess, he seemed to enjoy it, though there were times he struggled and appeared to wish desperately for his hook. He bit into the apple for the last time and then dropped the core on the ground. I took a wet wipe out of my purse and handed it to him. "For your face," I told him, and used another to pick up the core and drop it into a nearby wastebasket. He studied the wet wipe and then asked, "Love, why would I use your wet handkerchief?"

"It's not a handkerchief. It's a wet wipe, it's an antibacterial infused washcloth with water already there so…easy cleaning. You have caramel all over your face."

"I know, I can feel it." He grinned, "Want the sweetest kiss you'll ever find?"

I couldn't help myself. I laughed. He wiped the caramel off his face and then threw the wipe away in the wastebasket.

We continued to shop. He found a few books that interested him in the bookstore and I grabbed a new book. When I paid for the books, Hook's brows furrowed and his mouth tightened. "Too expensive?" I asked, signing my signature across the receipt with my usual flourishes and dotted the one 'i' in my name with a circle.

"I don't quite know what's expensive or not in this world, Penny-love, but that's not my complaint."

"Then what is?" I asked and we headed to the next shop.

Hook grabbed the door before I could and held it open for me. I stepped outside and he followed. "I'm letting you pay for everything."

I didn't understand, so I asked the problem and we stepped into the next shop. It happened to be a clothing store. Hook took a look around and raised a brow. "It's bad form for a gentleman to let a woman pay for it all. It says I can't afford you."

"You can't," I said matter-of-factly. "What do you say we get you some clothes of your own? Clothes you actually picked out? No leather." I added the last because I was sure my credit card would be declined at the price of leather. Secretly, I hoped this would be reimbursed somewhat.

A saleswoman approached us and she was happy to suggest a few things for Hook, openly flirting until she saw that he only had one hand. Then she kind of panicked and the manager came over to see my badge because _this was the man who'd shot Belle! _ He tried to go for black and red colors, but I added a sea foam green shirt to the assortment for him to try on, just because a wardrobe should never be one single color. It should be varied.

Most of what Hook tried on were long sleeved shirts and a few pairs of pants. He did not like the cut of any of the pants, no matter which I suggested. We successfully found him a long sleeved white shirt made of t-shirt material with a skull and crossbones on it and a sweatshirt. He insisted I try on a dress and ordered me to buy it, but I put it back. It cost too much and I had no idea where I would wear a knee length lace eyelet dress that didn't have any sleeves. I didn't have anything that would go with it either. It would require buying shoes and a sweater or shawl and I just didn't see the trouble of buying a dress I would never wear that required more accessories.

"That's the trouble with you, darling," Hook told me as I swiped my card. "You don't treat yourself. You should. Live a little."

"I do," I told him. "I live a little through books and I'll have you know, I've climbed the highest trees in the Storybrooke woods."

"Receipt with you or in the bag?"

"With me, please," I tucked it into my wallet and I grabbed the bag of clothes.

We put the bags in the car before heading to lunch and as I placed them securely in my trunk, Hook leaned down to whisper into my ear. "I wish you would have bought that dress. You looked like…you look beautiful. You should wear more clothes that suit you. You constantly down play your looks. You should play them up, more."

I looked at him. "I'm not looking for anyone's attention."

"Aye, but you certainly attract it anyway."

"I hope you're hungry."

"Starved."

Granny's grew quiet when we entered and I was alarmed to see that Mr. Gold and Belle were eating there as well. Gold looked up at us and I sat down as far away from them as I could. Hook took the seat next to me so he could watch Gold, or so he said.

Ruby walked over to our table and placed the menus down. "Can I start you off with something to drink?"

"Have any good ale?" Hook asked.

"Two waters," I piped up. "He's not allowed alcohol."

"Right," Ruby headed on over to get those and Hook leaned forward, taking his eyes off of Gold and glancing at Ruby's legs. I was really glad that she'd chosen pants and not a skirt, I didn't really want to go from hearing complaints about Gold to Hook's commentary on someone's "assets". I already heard enough about mine to write a book of bad pick-up lines.

I opened the menu and pretended to read it. Hook followed my example and soon we placed our orders. I asked for the Mac & Cheese and Hook requested a hamburger with fries.

"What do you want on that burger?" Ruby asked.

"Pardon, love?" Hook asked.

"Do you want cheese, olives, lettuce, tomatoes, onions, or what on the burger?"

"What is a burger? It says hamburger, you don't put cheese on ham." I wanted to giggle but I explained that it was really ground beef and told Ruby to make it plain. "Why is it called a _ham_burger if it's not made out of ham?"

"I think the Germans in Hamburg named it."

"What are Germans?"

Thank God for my iPod touch. I was able to show him maps and a bit around the world before Ruby arrived with our food. I placed the ketchup bottle in front of Hook and started on my mac and cheese. Hook picked up his fork and stabbed a fry with it.

He did end up liking the hamburger, but I ended up helping him cut it in half so he could hold it properly in one hand. "Do you have problems eating with your hook?" I asked, tearing off a bit of my garlic bread.

"No." Hook added some ketchup to his plate for his fries. "Anything I wanted to eat I figured out how."

"Personal question coming," I warned him, "did you have difficulty eating in front of people before you learned how to handle being with only one hand?"

Hook stabbed another French fry with his fork and I jumped a bit. "You're asking me that when _he's_ sitting over there, watching me?"

"Why did he take your hand anyway?"

Hook's eyes narrowed. "All over a magic bean. He wanted it for some reason. Cut off my hand because I refused to give it to him. I tricked him, though and used the bean to get to Neverland, where I plotted my revenge."

Some plot, I thought.

"What gives him the right?" he asked, "To sit there and watch me?"

"You're watching him." I reminded Hook.

"I wish I had my hook."

"I'm really glad you don't."

"If I could end this here and now, I would."

"We're in the middle of a _diner_." I looked at the clock. "You have three hours left. Don't waste them."

Hook finished his meal and Ruby came by to ask if we wanted dessert. I declined but Hook looked through the dessert listing and asked me about the ones he hadn't heard of. Ruby walked over with a banana split big enough for three people and set down two spoons. "Enjoy you two," she winked at me.

"It's not a date," I told her, cheeks on fire.

"What's a date?" Hook asked, picking up a maraschino cherry by its stem.

"Um…nothing."

"Well?" he asked after a long pause where he'd taken a few bites of the split.

"Well what?"

"Are you going to eat some of this? She brought two spoons, you know, you can have some. Or are you afraid I'll infect you with some pirate disease?"

I picked up the spoon and scooped some ice cream out. "I was your nurse in the hospital, I know what diseases you have."

He frowned, "I don't have any dise- oh. Oh. Good for you! You got me there."

We finished and I paid for the meal. Mr. Gold walked over to us and Hook tensed. "What do you want, Crocodile?"

"What does he mean, Rumpel?" Belle asked. "Why did he call you a crocodile?"

"Haven't broken any laws, have you?"

"We went shopping and spent plenty of time outside, nothing illegal."

"Why don't you answer her?" Hook asked. "Tell her why. Tell her what you've done."

Belle turned to me since Gold ignored that. "Who is this man? What does he mean?"

"You took her from me," Hook snarled.

"You took her first!"

"That's enough!" I burst in. "Hook, let's go." I grabbed his arm.

"You killed her!" Hook yelled. "How dare you blame –"

I pulled him out of the diner and shoved him against the wall of the diner. "Killian, Killian, breathe." Hook glared at me. "Please. Breathe slowly. It's just like pain – in fact, it is. Anger is a response to pain of some sort. Just like we did with your ribs. Breathe slowly, don't rush it. Count to five in your head." Hook glowered, his face growing redder as he tried to ignore my instructions. Then he gave in and started to follow what I had said. I'd almost gotten him to calm down when Belle came rushing out.

"Who are you?" she demanded of him.

"Belle!" Mr. Gold called out.

"His name is Killian Jones," I told her. "Or Captain Hook. I'd advise you to stay away. Mr. Gold, for the safety and security of all inhabitants of this world, stay away until the trial, all right?" I took Hook's arm and pulled him to my car.

"He won't even tell her what happened!" Hook spat. "Doesn't want her to know what he did so she'll run away. He's a coward. Even now." Hook smashed his fist against my car and then again.

"Hook! Stop!" I grabbed him and forced him down to the ground. "That's my car, pirate, so unless you're going to loot and plunder her for her bounty, which by the way, is all of a handful of pennies and some dimes, stop hitting my car. Breathe, slowly, and let me see your hand. It is, after all, your only hand. Don't go making yourself handless." He extended his hand to me and I looked it over. The backs of his knuckles had ripped flesh and some minor swelling, but not much had really damaged it. "You might have a nice bruise here tomorrow."

I looked up at Hook's face to see if he'd heard a word I'd said. He hadn't. His lips were pressed together tightly and his face quivered. Redness surrounded his eyes and water hung in them. "Oh, Killian," I pulled him into a hug. "Don't. He's not worth your time, your breath, your thoughts, and especially not your tears."

"I'm not –" his voice wavered and nearly broke. "It's her. I miss her." I felt his hot breath on my neck and he buried his face between my shoulder and neck. Droplets of salty tears fell on my skin, but a very little amount.

"I know," I said, and I spoke for both of us. "But Killian, she wants you to be happy. If she truly loved you, she'd want you to be happy. And she did love you. Don't waste your breath on this."

"You call me Killian," he commented and pulled back from me. "Why?"

"Because I won't do Gold the honor of calling you by a name he created in a moment of darkness." I wiped a tear away from his face. "Killian, let's go to your ship. Be with her there."

He willingly got in the car and I drove down to the dock. His tears had dried by then and he was joking with me. I knew what it was. He was ashamed of himself, he had been vulnerable with me for a while.

"Give me a moment?" he asked. I nodded and he went onto his ship. I saw him for a moment, and then he disappeared below deck. I took out the purchase I'd made before going to the prison. The seagulls cried and flew above me as I took off my shoes and rolled up my pant legs. Then I stuck my feet in the water and looked up at the clouds.

Killian returned to me and sat down. He held out a necklace to me. "It was hers," he said. "She didn't like it all that much but…it was the – well, doesn't matter. I want you to have it."

"No, Killian," I shook my head.

"Please. Please, Penny. You're the only friend I have here. A real friend. And you're right. She would want me to be happy. So I'm making friends."

"Well, I have a gift for you too," I held out what I'd bought this morning. A sketchbook, sketching pencils, and felt tip pens.

He laughed and then opened it. For a bit he played with the pencils and I put the necklace on. He watched and commented, "It looks beautiful on you."

The droplet of fire colored stone rested just below the hollow of my throat. "Milah must have had exquisite taste."

"Shush," he said and began to sketch. I set my alarm to go off to give us time to return to the station and then I leaned back to watch the waves. Killian sketched and sketched, adding more and more.

"He took someone from me," I said quietly. "My baby sister. It was to save my brother and our home from Regina – my family fell apart. The big problem with it all is that I don't know what happened. If she's alive. If I should look for her. If she's dead. How it happened. What he wanted from her. Not knowing is the worst."

He said nothing for the longest time. He resumed his sketching and said nothing. I said nothing. Finally he stopped sketching and spoke. "No, Penny-love, it's all equally horrible." The pencil sounds started again. I watched the clouds and then my alarm sounded. Killian willingly got into the car and I drove him back to the station.

Mr. Gold and Archie were waiting for us when we arrived. Killian kissed my cheek and went willingly to his cell, where Emma locked him in. She looked at the bags we'd brought back and assured me she'd go through them to make sure they were kept safe. I returned my badge and bid them good evening while Archie went to talk with Killian, to see if he'd gotten better from his outing.

Gold followed me out to my car. "Miss Pierce," he addressed me. I stopped. "Here we are again. If I might…" he held out an envelope. "For watching over the villain and for keeping him from Belle. You did an excellent job today, dear."

I looked at the envelope. "Is it money?"

"Yes."

"Keep it." I drove away but I knew I would be seeing Gold again soon.


	5. Actions Are Louder

Disclaimer: I don't own anything

Chapter Five

Actions Are Louder

Mr. Gold waited for me at my car. I froze on my porch, staring at him. "What can I do for you, Mr. Gold?" I asked when I finally recovered my senses. I walked towards my car confidently, not to betray the deep fear I felt. I shifted my purse on my shoulder and found my car key.

"It, uh, it took me a while to figure out who you were." He commented, leaning heavily on his cane, pressing into the grass a small circle. "But now I remember you."

"Is that so?" I asked, unlocking my door. "And what of it?" I put my purse on the passenger's seat and looked back at him. "We're not in our land now. I'm just Penelope Pierce."

He shook his head. "It matters because I wanted to know why you'd help Hook."

"He has a name. It's Killian. I have to get to work, could you make this quick?"

Gold held out a piece of paper and I took it. It was blank, just like the one I'd found in my mailbox – the paper changed and it was no longer blank. There was an image there, one of my family. "I put this in your mailbox to find out. This is what I saw when I retrieved it."

Retrieved it? Hadn't I thrown it away? What had I – had he been in my house? I couldn't remember what I'd done with the paper. How had he gotten it?

"You're doing this to get back at me. For a deal your father made."

"_Not Caroline! Please! She needs me!"_

"_Mama –"_

"_Hush! Please, sir, you must – take me too. She needs me."_

"_Mama!"_

"No," I replied, my voice wavering. "I'm doing this because I'm a healer. Because taking care of people is what I do. It's my job. He came to me injured, he's still injured. I really need to get to work."

"You're lying," Gold grabbed my wrist and squeezed. "Why are you helping him?" I could see behind the human appearance, see the monster he'd been in our old world – the monster behind –

"_A deal's a deal, dearie. The child's mine."_

"_I know that, but please…let her at least be weaned. What will you do with a baby?"_

"_I'll go with you. Just let me take care of her." _

"Let go of me!" I shrieked. "Let go!"

"This is your revenge! Your revenge against what happened to your sister!"

"_Her name was Caroline_!" I screamed. "What did you do to her? _Where is she?_"

"Dead." He let go of my arm and stepped back. "But don't worry. It was painless."

My little sister. Dead.

She was gone.

All the time I'd spent since the curse broke, looking for her, trying to imagine what she would look like now…wasted. My hope withered and dried away because Gold wouldn't lie about this. I remembered my brother crying and then finally committing suicide because of the guilt. I remembered my parents screaming at each other, the blame, the nightmares –

"How?" And how he heard me, I had no idea, for I could barely hear my own voice.

"Needed her for a spell. Well, just a part of her. Her heart."

"Did…did it work?" I swallowed.

"No. And for that, I am sorry."

I closed my eyes and felt the tears start to fall. Then I remembered Killian crying against my shoulder, his anger but unwillingness to let the enemy see him falter. He had channeled all his rage, misery, and loneliness into revenge. That was not who I was, that was not something I could do. But I could feel the grief melting away to anger.

"YOU BASTARD!" I screamed and then slapped him across the face as hard as I could. He fell back against the car, surprised. His cane toppled over as he fell back, too surprised to hold onto it. It was only when he began to right himself that I realized what I'd done. I'd hit the Dark One. I grabbed my purse, slammed my car door shut, and ran towards the house. "Stay away from me!" I screamed. "I'm calling the Sheriff!" I got inside and locked my door. I shoved the nearest chair against it and went about locking all the windows and doors to the outside. I even shut the curtains.

I found Wendy asleep in her favorite spot of the house: my bathroom rug. She opened her eyes and I picked her up to make sure that if Gold came back, he wouldn't be able to harm my cat. He'd already taken my family from me, he wasn't going to take my cat! I locked us in the bathroom and called down to the Sheriff's office.

"Sheriff's station," Emma answered.

I started crying.

"Who is this?" Emma asked. "What's wrong?"

"Mr. Gold…" I sobbed and Wendy mewed. "He…I'm so scared. I hit him."

"Who is this?" Emma repeated.

"Penelope Pierce."

"Penelope…where are you?"

"In my bathroom…I don't know…I don't – what if he comes after me?"

"I'm on my way. Don't worry." The call ended and I rocked back and forth on the floor, holding Wendy. She was slightly annoyed, I could tell because she kept wriggling to get out of my grasp but I just could not let her get away. Soon I heard the sound of sirens and then someone breaking into my house. "Penelope? Penelope!" Emma called out to me, but I couldn't answer her.

Eventually she found me in the bathroom and sat down next to me. "Penelope…he's gone. You're all right, you're safe."

I shook.

* * *

"Penny-love," Killian stood up and I realized that Emma had taken me to the station. Presumably I was under arrest for assault. I had no recollection of what had happened. But if I was incarcerated, why did I have Wendy in her carrier? "Swan, what happened?" Killian demanded. "What did you do to –" he stopped speaking when Emma opened the door to his cell and gestured for me to go in. He reached out a hand and steadied me. "Lass, you look positively ill." He wrapped his handless arm around me and pressed his hand against my forehead. "I thought, Swan, you took sick and injured people to the hospital. This isn't a hospital."

"Shut up, Hook, this is where she asked to be. She's not sick, she's just scared."

"No," I said. "Actually, I think I will be sick." My stomach churned and before Emma could say anything, Killian helped me over to the nearest wastebasket and I threw up all of what I had eaten for breakfast.

"I see," Killian said. "You're right, Swan, she's just sea sick. Tell me, love, what rocked your boat too hard?"

"I hit Mr. Gold," I told him and threw up again. Emma handed me a disposable cup of water and I rinsed my mouth.

"Well! Good for you, lass!" Killian couldn't even hide his joy at my crime. "What for?"

I threw up again, just bile this time. How much could I actually throw up? I was so used to helping others as they spewed rejected fluid, not being the one actually puking. "She's dead," I told him and began to cry. "He used her in a spell."

Killian sucked in a breath. "That devil," he cursed. We sat out by the wastebasket for a while until it was determined that I was done throwing up. Then I had to tell my story to Emma and Killian listened in. His hand never left me, somehow he was always touching me. Either my back, my hand, or my shoulder…his support meant a great deal to me. I began to feel safe.

We moved back to his cell while Emma called Gold down to the station. This way, Emma reasoned, if Gold wanted to press charges, he would do it legally. "Too bad you gave back the badge, love," Killian commented.

"Actually," Emma crossed her arms. "Technically she was never a deputy."

"What?" I asked. My stomach churned. Great, now I was in more trouble. Aside from angering the most dangerous man in all of Storybrooke, I had broken the law a couple times! "But you –"

"You didn't take an oath or any training or anything really, but…we're not exactly by the book here. Don't worry, though, this problem will never involve anyone other than…well, us." Emma was right, I had just taken the badge and not filled out a single form, much less agreed to uphold the laws of Storybrooke, Maine.

Mr. Gold arrived fairly soon and I tensed, Wendy hissed in her carrier. I squeezed Killian's hand and he squeezed mine back, giving me a confident smile. "Well, crocodile," Killian addressed his foe. "You're so big of a coward you had to share your fear with the ladies? And they call me a villain."

Mr. Gold turned to Emma, purposefully ignoring Killian. "I won't be pressing charges against Ms. Pierce. We all make mistakes –"

"That's what you call it?" Killian laughed. "I'd call it being a hero – go on then, tell Emma what you did to Penny's family. What you did to her sister." Gold said nothing. "You demon, you're less than a crocodile. You're a barnacle, attaching yourself to whatever and wrecking it. I did Belle a favor –"

"Don't speak her name!" Gold ruined his attempt to avoid looking at or speaking to Killian. "You know nothing about Belle! And I am neither a crocodile nor a barnacle – I am king of the ocean compared to you, you're nothing more than what I made you: _a hook_. And I can unmake you –"

"Gold. Stop. You answered all I needed, now you can go." Emma stepped between the cell and Gold.

* * *

For the most part, they left us alone. I didn't want to leave the cell in case Gold had lied. I let Wendy out of her carrier and she squeezed in and out of the cells as she pleased, but stayed at the station. Killian and I played games, mostly hangman. "You know what's interesting?" I noted when we'd finished up the fifth game (I'd lost over the word 'astrolabe').

"What?" he put the paper away and got out the sketchbook.

"We didn't name a single person. We've never talked about them with their names." He looked at me, brows furrowed. "My sister's name was Caroline."

"You're wrong," he told me. "I told you her name, her name was Milah."

I had to admit he was right; he'd used her name at the docks. "Do you…do you think that there's an afterlife?"

Killian thought about it. "Well, there are other worlds. Why shouldn't there be an afterlife?"

I leaned back and closed my eyes.

When I woke up, I felt disoriented. My alarm clock wasn't where it was supposed to be. I rolled over and felt my sheets refuse to move easily, they felt like denim. "Sure you want to roll in that direction, love?"

I looked for the source of Killian's voice. How could he be here when –

I sat up. "How disappointing. We could have given David something to watch." He shook his head in false dismay.

"I fell asleep in your lap?!"

"No. But you kind of slumped over, and I figured you'd want to lay down, not lean against my shoulder."

"There's a pillow!" I protested and looked towards it. Wendy sat on it, happily asleep. "Oh. You friggin' cat."

Wendy didn't even stir. If she'd looked up at all, I imagined she would have been proud of herself. She'd found the best seat in the whole place.

"You took care of me in the hospital. My turn to take care of you."

"I got paid to take care of you, it's my job." Then I realized that he'd said 'David' and not Emma. I stood up and looked towards the Sheriff's desk. Indeed, Prince Charming was there and I didn't see a sign of Emma anywhere.

"Here," I turned back to Killian and he held out a piece of paper torn from his sketchbook. "It's what I drew yesterday. Added a bit to it, even got to study my model close up this afternoon. Put the finishing touches on it while you slept." I took the paper and looked at it.

He'd drawn me. At the docks. With the _Jolly Roger _in the background.

It was really good. "How did you learn to draw?'

"I didn't. I started doing maps early on, comes in handy with being the captain. Eventually moved to people and objects. It was just something I did."

I smiled and handed him back the drawing. I didn't want to fold it and I let him know that. He put it back with his sketchbook and then showed me a few of what he'd been working on. There was one of Emma, another of Charming and Snow White, and a few with mermaids. They were easy to spot and I remembered his descriptions of them in Peter Pan. Beautiful creatures, beautiful singing voices, but would drown all who came in pursuit of them. No one had ever spotted a merman, it was said that they were unable to breathe air.

The door opened and David looked up. "Oh, good, Snow. You're here."

I looked at the princess and then asked, "Where did Sheriff Swan go?"

"She left with the crocodile," Killian told me. "To find his son." I could hear the disdain. "They left the town."

"We've decided on a verdict," Mary Margaret said to Killian.

"Verdict?" I asked. "But we didn't have a trial. I didn't testify –"

"Actually, you did. We did. Hook's been here this whole time and has only tried to hurt Gold. And as for your testimony," Charming smiled, "well, you came here when you were frightened and you stayed because you trusted him. So, Hook, you'll help us defeat Cora and then you'll leave. That's the deal."

"And of my crocodile?"

"You'll have to do that on your own. Not in Storybrooke and you can't go into the outside world. They'd lock you away forever. You're going to go back to what's left of our land. That's what we mean by 'leave'. Deal?"

I watched him think it over and then he nodded. "Deal."


	6. Fair Winds and Waves

Disclaimer: I still don't own Once Upon a Time or Captain Hook/Killian Jones.

Fair Winds and Waves

I folded the paper and sealed it inside the envelope. It was already addressed and ready to go. The past couple weeks had been…difficult, but Cora was gone. Today would be the day that Killian left for our old land. They'd used the weather predictions to determine when exactly he would leave. They learned the time the tides would be around and if he would have the right kind of weather. It was a beautiful day out and it would be a nice time to sail.

I placed the few letters in my purse and then grabbed Wendy's carrier. It was a bit difficult to convince her again to get in the cage, but I did the best I could to coax her. Then I gave up and wrestled her in as gently as I could. She growled at me when I picked it up, but I'd fought a hard battle and won, so I didn't mind her displeasure too much. She would appreciate my hard work soon enough.

I placed her in the backseat, next to all the boxes and bags I had packed inside my car. I wore the necklace Killian had given me and took one long, last look at my house. I smiled sadly and climbed into my car. I did not look back as I drove away. I kept my eyes forward.

Michael Tillman waited for me at the auto shop and he climbed in the car. "You're sure about this?" he asked, pulling the seatbelt over him.

I nodded and drove on to the docks.

I wasn't the only one there, the Sheriff and the Charmings were there to make sure that Killian actually left. Gold was nowhere in sight, happily. I spotted the pirate on the ship, clad once again in black leather. I left Michael in the car and went towards the _Jolly Roger_. Snow saw me coming and smiled. "Here to say goodbye?" she asked.

I shrugged and asked if I could go aboard. Snow nodded and I walked up the plank. When I reached the part where I actually had to step onto the ship, I called out to Killian, "Permission to come aboard, Captain?"

"Penny-love!" Killian smiled and walked toward me, his coat flapping in the breeze. "Come to say goodbye? Don't worry, I wouldn't leave without at least kissing you senseless to remember me by." He winked.

"Um...well...," everything I had planned in my head fell away now. Of course it did. How stupid of me to think it would be otherwise. "I mean, I wasn't going to let you sail away without saying goodbye, but -."

He didn't listen and instead walked over to a crate on the floor. He opened it and took out the sketchbook. "Here," he handed it to me. "Keep it as a memento of our time together, our friendship." The thick paper book filled with ink and graphite marks seemed far too precious a gift. For both of us. He should not part from it, it was his log of events, places, and people while here in Storybrooke. I didn't want to be the one to hold on to his memoirs when most people were probably thrilled that he was leaving today.

I shook my head. "No."

"I want you to have it." He pressed it into my hand and I pushed it back into his.

"No…oh what the hell," I threw caution to the wind and threw my arms around him in a hug. He hugged me back, laughing. "Tell me something, Killian, can you sail this ship by yourself?"

"It's a challenge, but yes."

"Well…how about a medic? Do you need one of those in your crew?" I let go of him and stepped back. "What I really meant when I asked if I could come aboard is…can I come with you? There isn't anything here for me. No family, no real friends. You're the first real friend I've had all these years. Outside of Wendy." I was beginning to ramble, so I shut up.

Killian considered it. "You know what you'd be giving up, right? You know what you're getting into? A pirate's life is no life for women."

I lifted my chin. "I can do anything I decide to do. And yes, I've thought it through." Everything was planned, too, that's why I'd brought Michael. That's why I'd sealed letters in envelopes, letters of termination of my job, of my house ownership, of my memberships in various organizations, and all that.

"What about Wendy?" he gestured towards the shore with his hook. "Who in this land do you trust to take care of her?"

I smiled. "Well…can you use a rodent catcher on the ship?"

The meaning of my words was understood quickly. Killian looked delighted at the thought of having my cat aboard. "Welcome to my crew, Healer Penny," he told me and then we disembarked to load my stuff. He showed me to my quarters, which were the second best (according to him) and I set about making sure nothing would rattle around as we sailed. Once we were safely moving and he said it was ok, I would go and arrange my room.

He quizzed me on nautical terms, on the parts of the ship and how they worked, and then we went down to say farewell to everyone on land. I turned over my keys to Michael and he promised to find my car a good home. At this point, I no longer cared but it was nice of him to think of it. I received hugs from Snow and Charming, a handshake from Emma, and a hug from Henry.

Killian and I boarded the ship and he began to order me around so we could catch the tide. I had to remember that he was now my captain and this would be normal. We raised the anchor, adjusted the sails, and soon I felt the ship move. We were heading away from Storybrooke – away from the cursed Maine town that had kept me for so long.

"Second star to the right, Captain?" I asked him and let Wendy out of her carrier. She took a few wobbly steps, then sat down and meowed her confusion and displeasure at the rocky feeling of a ship at sail.

"Not at all, love," Killian stood behind the wheel, ready to adjust course whenever. "Straight on home."

"Home," I said. And it would be the first real home I'd had since the curse happened. This ship was my home, Killian my friend, and Wendy my trusted judge, jury, and friend, the standard definition of a pet cat. "Where's home, Captain?"

"Home," Killian said, "is wherever there is good company, food, and drink. Home is wherever we make it."

The waves rolled around and gently struck the ship, but if I didn't watch it, I wouldn't have known of the individual effort. Soon the rocking of the ship became normal to both Wendy and I. We were able to walk around without tripping over our feet. I pulled ropes, learned how to tie knots, and ended up with a lot of robe burns and blisters, but I had never been happier or felt safer.

Finis

**Author's Note:** Thank you to all who read, followed, and reviewed this story. It's been a great pleasure to see that people enjoy this. I hope you're satisfied with the ending. I didn't touch upon the issue of Cora because the story is about the friendship between Penny and Hook/Killian. Again, thank you!


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